I no longer have the strength to live in reality and resist it. I have always heard about the virtuous city and wished to live in it, even wished to see it, so I decided to go on a journey in search of it. I packed a small bag carrying what was essential and what I could bear on my shoulders for a long time.
I set off from North Africa, specifically from deep Morocco, crossing the Rif Mountains and the Atlas Mountains, passing through deserts and plateaus. While on my way, I stopped to rest and found an abandoned house. I sat beside it and took out the little food I had and started eating until an old man approached me and asked about my presence there. I told him that I was searching for the virtuous city that Plato talked about. He burst into laughter and told me it doesn't exist, then he departed. I also contemplated leaving, took a few steps, and cut my foot on a piece of glass, causing it to bleed. I bandaged it, and although it hurt, I continued on my way. Living in the virtuous city would make me forget all the pain.
At one moment, I heard a strange sound. I turned my head and saw a horse. I approached it, mounted it, and continued my journey, wondering how this horse had appeared at that moment. I remembered the words of Paulo Coelho in "The Alchemist": "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it." I smiled lightly and continued my journey, envisioning the moment of arrival.
I traveled a long distance, estimated to be hundreds of kilometers, until I reached a large forest. Its tall and dense trees cast a shadow, making it difficult to see inside. I sat and contemplated what to do until the horse, which had been keeping me company, returned to where it came from. The pain I had suffered and still endured in reality motivated me to engage in any adventure, no matter how difficult.